


Fancy Meeting You Here

by Emerald_Fire3510



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Really just bad smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-30 00:50:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14485119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emerald_Fire3510/pseuds/Emerald_Fire3510
Summary: Harry and Draco can NOT stop getting on each other’s nerves. Needless to say with just a few weeks left, Harry is going insane, and so the boys find themselves unable to help but relieve some of their tension in a way others might not expect.





	Fancy Meeting You Here

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first finished piece for the fandom-hope you all like it!

It was Monday morning, and Harry already wished he had a bucket of Firewhiskey to drown out the doom and gloom that was the Scottish countryside. Actually, no, it wasn’t the drizzling clouds, or the misty grey that seemed to paint everything in the Spring...well, grey. No, he needed the Firewhiskey because of  _ Malfoy _ . The lanky git had somehow gotten  _ more _ attractive over the Winter Hols—his arse was more round, his undercut freshly cropped, his silver eyes twinkling like veritaserum...His lips were somehow even  _ more _ distracting-all pretty and paisley pink. Harry found himself wondering how they’d look stretched around his thick, tanned co—

“Get out of my way, you bloody ingrate.” Draco sneered as he brushed passed Harry on his way to class, his robes whipping behind him much like  _ another _ Slytherin Harry once knew. Harry watched the pointy bugger saunter off down the corridor, his green eyes trained down onto Malfoy’s that nice looking, bubble-shaped bum.

Yeah, Harry could use that Firewhiskey right about now.

 

\---------

 

Tuesday evening found Harry stuck around that insufferable git, the staircase stopping mid-move, leaving the two boys with nowhere to go forward , and nowhere back.

“Un-be-fucking-lievable. Grand old job there, Golden Boy. You got us stuck.” Draco sneered, his thin pink lips pulling around to showcase.

Immediately Harry’s eyes snapped to his fellow Eighth-year. Even through the dry mouth, Harry swallowed thickly before saying “Wait, what? How the fucking hell is the staircase stopping  _ my _ fault, Malfoy?” 

“Because if anything goes wrong in my bloody life it can all lead back to you.” Draco growled, moving closer to Harry.

“Piss off, arsehole.” Harry ground out, clenching his fists by his sides as he narrowed his eyes. His spine turned to steel as he saw Draco replace his sneer with a look of...something. It was a look that made Harry’s blood boil and the hairs on the back of his head stand on-end. He couldn’t tell what emotions were flitting across that angular face three steps down from him.

Harry could feel his lips pull down into a sneer as his nails bit into his palms. His eyes flashed down to Draco’s lips, movement catching his eye as a clever little tongue was just finishing a swipe across now moistened lips, retreating back inside that devilish mouth. Harry wondered if Draco’s lips were as soft as they looked-what they would feel like against his own. Harry didn’t take  _ fantastic _ care of his lips, unlike Draco who always had a lip salve on a pinkie getted applied almost constantly.

Maybe Draco’s lips would taste like the herbs in the stuff he put on them. Did his lips balms colour those pretty pink lines? With his hands fisted in Draco’s blond locks, his throbbing cock between those soft satiny lips, would they leave pink smears down Harry’s shaft as he fu-

The staircase moved again, shaking them apart. Harry fell back and onto his arse, while Draco fell against the railing, hanging on tight as the stairs moved until they stopped where they were heading-the eighth year common room.

Draco straightened up, manicured fingertips lightly brushing against his bangs as-if checking to see if they had been mused, tweaked, or otherwise put out of place. (Hint: They were bloody perfect and immaculate like bloody fucking usual.)

The blond swept past Harry while Harry sat on the ground, watching him go with a dumbfounded look on his face.

 

\----------

 

Wednesday saw Harry hiding with Moaning Myrtle in her bathroom while a horde of girls—and guys, searched for him. They had just now learned about he and Ginny’s break-up, from before classes had even  _ started _ and...well.

Harry didn’t really want to think about that day too much.

 

\-----

 

On Thursday Harry missed breakfast, DADA and Potions. He had been so excited to see Remus  _ and  _ Sirius back to back, knowing he would have a great day because of seeing his God-father and his Husband, but what even is a Good Day at this point? 

And the day ended much the same as Wednesday, but with less hiding and more  _ running _ . Harry swore that the next time a horde of “fans” chased him down the corridors, he’d just hex them all into oblivion.

And if he went to bed two nights in a row frustrated, horny, and confused because he never saw Blond and Silver, well, none knew but him. (Hermione noticed his obsession coming back, but for once decided not to mention it.)

 

\----------

 

Friday was his saving grace.

He ate breakfast down in the Kitchens—no one seemed to think he’d go there —down in the kitchens was a head of platinum blond hair that made Harry’s heart( _ and other organs _ ) _ clench _ .

Draco looked up at him, blinking his eyes as he processed the sight of freshly risen Potter, with hair messier then that hippogryph nest in the cells above the castle.

Green melded into Silver, neither saying a word.

Draco stood, leaving his book bag, and left the room without a single word.

Harry followed mindlessly, his hands shaking as a nervousness he didn’t understand washed over him. Draco turned around—Harry was apparently  _ too slow _ —and grabbed the Golden Boy by his hand and dragged him down rows and rows of little hidden corridors until he swept into a room with a hole in the ceiling that bled gold down unto a collapsed pile of rubble.

Harry checked that the door was closed, and that the room had no other living souls beside he and Draco. He turned to Draco, pulled him to flush front to front, and kissed the pointy git. Draco’s lips were softer than Harry had ever imagined they would be, and tasted like peaches and mint.  _ Fuck _ , he never known how much he had needed to feel Draco’s lips moving against his own in this way until this very moment. The way Draco practically  _ melted _ against him made Harry draw him nearer, closer, biting Draco’s lower lip and pulling a sweet little whimper from his pale throat. 

A low groan broke the air, and it took Harry a moment to realise it was  _ his _ .

“Took you long enough to kiss me, Potter.” Draco cooed, smirking against Harry’s lips.

“Stuff it, Draco.” Harry retorted. He didn’t miss the way Draco shivered at the sound of his name on Harry’s tongue. It felt so right to say, with his throat gravely and his prick heavy between his legs.

“I was rather hoping  _ you’d _ ‘stuff’ me, Harry.” Draco purred in Harry’s ear. Harry groan he could  _ hear _ the smirk on Draco’s pretty lips, and  _ fuck _ he wanted to make Draco  _ scream _ .

Hot.

Merlin, it was hot. No, it was  _ blistering _ . His hands seared heated trails over Malfoy’s skin—pulling and shoving and  _ molding _ him to what he wanted. Into what Harry felt he bloody well needed in order to stay alive.

More, he needed to touch  _ more _ . It was like his mind had taken a floo to Africa, leaving Harry here to mindlessly grab and tear at Draco’s clothes to get to as much skin as he could get.

The blond git nibbled on Harry’s bottom lip even as he made a high-pitched, whining sound while Harry ground their clothed pricks together. “Harry,” Draco panted against his lips—their robes were still on, their trousers, their bloody  _ boots _ . It was completely  _ unnecessary _ how many articles of clothing were still between his body and Draco’s.

“Fuck, I want…” Harry began, though he didn’t really know  _ what _ he wanted, just that he wanted  _ more _ —-contact, kissing, grabbing. Heat.

“What do...you want...?” Draco panted as he and Harry continued to rub their cocks against one another, the friction barely enough for  _ anything _ like what they both wanted.

Harry grabbed the back of Draco’s neck and tilted his head back witha thumb under his jaw, his teeth marking down the column of Draco’s snow white throat. His teeth left light, red welts down the skin, and Harry stopped as his mouth encountered cloth.

With a low growl, Harry leaned back and let go of Draco.

“I want you to take off your robe and vest,” Harry began. He licked his lips, tasting Draco’s sweat on his teeth. “And then I want you to take mine off, too.” He finished, his voice wavering slightly.  _ Fuck _ , was he really going to get his kit off with  _ Malfoy _ ?

No, he was going to get them off with  **Draco** .

Harry watched as a pretty rose pink flush splotched across Draco’s face—first his cheeks, then his nose...down his throat...Harry wondered if he had flushed on his chest, too.

Draco looked shyly at the ground for a moment, and seemed to collect himself.

He snapped his head back up, bravado back in place as he smirked at Harry. He tugged his robe loose, and let it fall and pool down on the ground, a crescent of black cloth streaked with Silver and Green.

Draco looped a finger into the knot of his necktie, and pulled it loose off to his right, chin held high as the thin end fell out of the knot. He let his right arm collapse to his side, the silk tie falling to the ground with a pretty little flutter that Harry didn’t get to watch to the end. Deft, thin fingers slipped buttons out of a collared, white, button down shirt. He paused halfway down, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth as he instead moved on to his wrists; undoing the buttons slowly.

Harry palmed himself, wide-eyed, hot, and  _ bothered _ at how hot Draco was at this little tease of a strip show.

“Fuck it,” Harry growled. He threw his cloak off quickly, the material clumping down somewhere on the floor. Harry untied his neck tie, and ripped open his shirt, the buttons flying like snitches, yet his eyes were trained on nothing but the blond-haired male in front of him— _ his _ own personal Golden Snitch. Harry went to Draco, and ripped his shirt open the rest of the way, ignoring the other boy’s sputtering as he leaned in and captured his lips in a swearing kiss.

Draco’s arms, now free of his shirt, wrapped around and underneath Harry’s own arms and around his ribs. He could feel Draco’s fingers, splayed wide and long across his shoulder blades, long and cold across Harry’s burning back.

Harry’s hands went to Draco’s sides, and trailed down, feeling the grooves of his Sceptumspura scars —permanent marks from  _ Harry _ —-and down over his hips, curving back to grab at that round shaped bum Harry had been eyeing all  _ week _ .(Hell, more like all  _ year _ )

His large, warm hands grabbed both cheeks, and pulled Draco closer  _ closer  _ **_closer_ ** , needing to feel that lovely straining cock slotted against his own.

“Ah…” Draco gasped, throwing his head back. Harry lipped down his throat, spending time over Draco’s adam’s apple, sucking a mother-of-all hickeys into his porcelain skin. “Oh...Har-ry..” Draco cooed, shivering and gasping oh so  _ sweetly  _ under Harry’s hands and mouth. Their desperate grinding slowing to something less frantic. Harry’s mouth gentled until he was just placing butterfly soft kiss over Draco’s collarbone.

Harry felt Draco twist his head down and shifted to meet him halfway, their kiss just as passionate as before, but not nearly as hurried.

They opened their eyes, and leaned their foreheads together, panting.

“Okay?” Harry asked, his voice so low it came from his toes.

“Merlin, yes.” Draco chuckled breathlessly. Harry smirked roguishly, and rolled his hips forwards, making Draco’s eyes widen, and his mouth drop open in a needy gasp.

They walked until Draco’s back-and Harry’s hands- landed against the wall. “Draco, can I fuck you?” Harry asked him bluntly.

Draco groaned and thunked his head back against the stone. “Thought I was pretty clear on where I stand on that.”

“Spoken Consent is Important.” Harry insisted.

Draco looked Harry dead in the eye and said “Harry, if your cock isn’t bollocks deep inside my arse in the next  _ minute _ I may implode from sexual tension on the spot,” Draco growled earnestly.

Harry smirked crookedly. He removed his hands and unbuttoned Draco’s trousers, shoving them  _ and _ the red and gold striped boxers down his legs. Draco’s prick sprang free, and bobbed back against his belly. It was long, and flushed red at the head. Thinner then Harry’s, but no doubt longer. Harry shivered, his mouth watering.  _ Next time. _ He thought, wanting to taste that pretty pearl of liquid at the top of his prick. He held off, though, his mind thinking of another prize.

He shoved his pants down to his knees, and cast a wandless cleaning, and then a lubrication charm on Draco, relishing in how he shivered at the feeling.

Draco wrapped his legs around Harry’s hips, his pants and trousers hanging off of one leg as Harry pressed him back into the wall, a hand between Draco’s cheeks and slipping a finger inside. Draco moaned and rocked down on the hot finger in his bum, panting into the crook of Harry’s neck.

“More,” Draco begged.

Harry slipped a second finger in, and fucked them into Draco, watching his shoulders for tensing and listening closely for discomfort. Draco gasped and groaned out low when Harry’s fingers brushed something inside. Draco adjusted his arms and rewrapped them around Harry’s neck, whimpering as his brow scrunched in pleasure, his lips bowing with his expression.

Harry had three fingers in his ass before he pulled them out—Draco groaning at the loss.

Harry cast another wandless lubricant charm on his prick, and he maneuvered it until it was against Draco’s hole. “Ready?” Harry panted out, his glasses fogging around the edges, but  _ damnit _ he wasn’t going to take them off if it meant not seeing this beautiful view of Draco coming undone.

In response, Draco canted his hips down, and the head of Harry’s prick pushed in.

Harry groaned lowly, his lips mouthing at a tendon on the side of Draco’s neck as Draco began to  _ sob _ at the feeling of being so full. “Oh Merlin, Potter...Potter..Harry.” Draco whimpered it out like a mantra, until it was incoherently just simply  _ Harry _ .

Harry was fully in him, gasping and panting, when Draco began to  _ circle his hips _ . “Oh sweet  _ Merlin _ .” Harry cursed as Draco, between his grip on Harry’s shoulders and the wall, road Harry the best he could.

Harry pulled out, and pushed back in as Draco writhed on his cock. They moved slowly at first, but then Draco began to  _ beg _ . “Please, please, please...Fuck! Harry,  _ more _ , please. Oh Merlin  _ please _ .” He muttered, his fingers scrabbling for purchase against Harry’s sweat covered skin.

Harry rolled his neck and moved his hands to hold the insides of Draco’s knees, holding him up and spreading his legs further. Draco whined, his movements now restricted. “Harry!” Draco groaned, a hand flying to his own face while the other tangled into Harry’s hair. Draco slipped two fingers into his own mouth, moaning around them. Harry’s hips stuttered when he saw this, and he felt a warning tightening in his bollocks.

_ Fuck _ . “Fuck...Draco, ‘m close.” Harry panted, his brows pinching up as he panted in time with his short, quick thrusts. Each thrust in Draco chanted Harry’s name, lost as his hand that had had fingers in his own mouth wrapped around his cock. They panted together, moaning into each other's mouths as they moved in for open mouthed kisses.

Draco gasped and his head snapped back against the wall as he came in his fist, his cum dribbling out of his fist and down the creases in his thighs.

He clenched tightly around Harry, and Harry moaned into his neck. One, two thrusts more, and Harry’s knees shook as he came inside of Draco.

Panting shakily, Harry withdrew from Draco, helping the blond get his feet under him, before pulling his trousers and pants back up. He looked at Draco, an awkwardness settling into his shoulders.  _ What the FUCK just happened?! _ Harry thought dazedly. He cleared his throat awkwardly.

Still panting, Draco raised a brow at Harry. He pulled his leg through his pants and trousers, and pulled them up, leaving them unbuttoned. “You broke the buttons off my favourite shirt.” Draco said, scrunching his nose in displeasure.

“Er...sorry…?” Harry hedged.

Draco was putting on his cloak—ignoring the giant hickey on his throat and the disheveled hair-he went back to infront of Harry, and kissed him on the cheek. “I’ll be expecting you in my room tonight—10 o’clock sharp. Don’t keep me waiting, Harry.

With that, Draco was gone out the door in a flourish of cloth.

Harry blinked owlishly at where Draco had stood, before smiling slowly to himself.

Apparently, he wouldn’t need that Firewhiskey after all.  
  


_ Fin. _

**Author's Note:**

> This work was inspired by fae-voritensfw on tumblr. Specifically their piece " [Fancy Meeting You Here](https://fae-voritensfw.tumblr.com/post/172574544925/fancy-meeting-you-here-the-teasing-has-ended)"
> 
> I hope you guys liked this little thing! I sure did like writing it! My Alpha/Beta/Brit Pick was the lovely [ProfessorDrarry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProfessorDrarry/pseuds/ProfessorDrarry).
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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